


Swarm

by Kit_SummerIsle



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: G1 AU, G1-ish AU, Golden Age, M/M, Pre-War, Pre-War AU, Seeker Customs, Seekers, Trine - Freeform, Vos - Freeform, could be TFP AU as well, just not the looks, some violence, swarming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-01 19:42:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13301874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_SummerIsle/pseuds/Kit_SummerIsle
Summary: Tumultous times are ahead in Vos. As population grows, society reacts the only way it could, the way it hasn't for generations, the way unknown for the rest of Cybertron, but core tradition for Seekers. It brings change, renewal, upheaval - and opportunities.... at the crest of the change a certain tricoloured Seeker flies...... and a certain archivist is there to observe.





	1. Arrival

**Author's Note:**

> _Swarming: when the beehive gets too big or crowded, the old queen lays eggs into the queen cups. When these are ready to emerge, the old queen stops laying and swarms (leave the hive for good) with a group of worker bees and they build a new hive elsewhere. The new, young queens emerge in the old hive and fight until only one remain._
> 
>  
> 
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> 
> Usually Seeker society and culture is modelled after or made similar to birds and bird habits. But when I came across the concept of swarming for bees, I knew that I had to at least try and fit it into TF, in particular for Seekers. Of course Seekers have a lot more free will than bees and I had to fit the idea to canon somewhat as well - but the core idea, to portray swarming in Seeker society remains my focus.

“I am sorry, Mr Pax, but we cannot give you a travel permit at this time.”

The green-gold Seeker’s tone was anything but apologetic to Orion. In fact he sounded secretly gleeful that he could deny permission to a grounder, his red optics narrowed haughtily on the screen, the wings behind held high and taut. Orion wasn’t very proficient in reading wing-language, but to him these looked as smug as his tone. He gave the same answer that he gave to Orion’s letter and he still couldn’t believe it. True, Vos was isolationist. True, it was very hard to get those permits to enter the city. But Orion came prepared. He had a rock-solid reason, a research project that could only be done in the Vosian Archives – since they neglected to connect their database to the Cybertronwide net, he had to get there in person. He had approval from Seeker authorities for researching the early days of the first Winglords. He even had supporting letters from them, for Primus’s sake!

“But why? Is anything missing from my application?” He knew that there wasn’t but he tried to keep his own tone friendly and respectful. “Anything wrong that I have to correct?”

“The permit is impossible at this time.”

“But why? I was assured that by complying all regulations, I could do my research and…”

“Right now it is not possible, nevertheless.”

Orion sat in front of his Archives’ screen, thinking. The Seeker seemed to stress the time, like it was…

“Why now? My own research permit has a deadline and I informed your authorities about that as well. I direct your attention to the affirmative letter from Lord Windsong attached.”

The Seeker glanced down and frowned into the datapad containing Orion’s request, long claws rapping at the screen as he scrolled. The wings hiked even higher. Orion unconsciously leaned away from the screen as the Seeker’s mood became decidedly unfriendly and he nearly spat his next words on the screen:

“But it is Swarming!”

Orion shuttered his optics rapidly a few times. He ran a quick query on his memory banks, but it came up empty for the term. In fact it was not even Common Iaconian origin, the word came from Vosian and only the inflection softened it into Standard. It’s context came back as vaguely organic, pertaining… _insects?_... but the core meaning was missing. Orion stared at the twitchy Seeker on his screen.

“I’m… sorry…? Svarming?”

Apparently he botched the glyphs somewhat, because the lips of the Seeker curled into a snarl and he repeated the word in a frosty tone. Orion took a careful note of the exact glyphs and decided to run a broader search in the Archives for it.

“Swarming… is not for grounders!”

“I can assure you, Mr… Broadwings, that my research does not pertains this Swarming…” – though he couldn’t deny being very interested, but the Seeker didn’t have to know it – “… and during my visit I intend to stay in the Archives and my lodgings, not disturbing anything that might occur during this… _festival_?”

The last word was a bold guess on his part as the context of the word also indicated a crowd event. He could immediately saw that it was not wrong as the Seeker’s optics darkened back to their usual deep red and his wings relaxed marginally. The frown also lessened, though it remained on his brow, but changed from an angry cant to a faintly puzzled one.

“So you already know about it?”

Orion decided to bluff and hoped that the Seeker was as unused to grounder faceplates as he was with wings. He put on what he hoped was a knowing smile and spoke conspiratorially.

“I am a Master Archivist, Mr Broadwings. We have access to knowledge not available to the public. We also practice full discretion about these.”

He was glad to see the green-gold wings relax down even further behind the Seeker’s back. 

“I see.” There was a last, long glance from those red orbs, but Orion stared back with all his open, friendly innocence that his friend told him his own blue optics radiated. He was not above using it to placate a suspicious Seeker. Research was above all considerations, even if he did not like to deceive mechs… but it wasn’t a real deception, only a… lucky bluff.

“In that case…” – he signed his glyph onto the form with a flourish, the stylus looking strange held with his long claws – “… you have permission to enter Vos no later the third orn of the Moon and stay in the city for a decaorn. You’re restricted to the areas marked for grounders and must heed the signs posted for the Swarming as well. You may not use a jetpack during your stay.”

Archivists didn’t cheer so Oprion resisted the urge. But he smiled politely and thanked the Seeker profusely for the permission. Now, onto organizing his travel, also not an easy thing to do with regular travel nonexistent to Vos, and he suspected that this Swarming thing would make it even harder. There were some shuttles who sometimes flew between Iacon and Vos on trade business and on occasions they carried passengers as well. He considered driving as well, but was informed that the Seeker city had no ground entrances, much to his amazement. Orion had a couple of shuttle designations who were more likely to do provide transport services than others and he called one of them as soon as his travel permit was transmitted by the Vosnian Travel Bureau.

“Mr Skyfire?”

The shuttle was… huge and Orion yet again leaned back from the screen, this time to see his conversation partner in his entirety. He was predominantly white with red details and he looked pleasantly friendly. Orion hoped that he would be amenable to a deal, as most shuttles he knew so far looked disgruntled to carry passengers.

“Yes, Mr Orion Pax. How may I help you?”

“I was informed that you do occasional runs between Iacon and Vos and that you’re willing to carry passengers there. Is this information correct?”

The shuttle nodded. His huge wings were much more rigid than the Seekers’ but Orion could see that he was far calmer too than the high-strung jets’ and visibly friendlier than most shuttles. He was casually looked over, but the shuttle’s blue optics made it much more bearable than the disdaining red stares from Seekers. 

“Occasionally, yes.”

“In that case I would like transportation there sometime before the third orn of the month if it is possible with you.”

Skyfire nodded at first but then he looked up sharply as he was probably looking up his schedule.

“There’s a no-fly restriction with no exceptions on that date and a few orns afterwards for the whole Vosian airspace. Are you sure of the time? I must arrive to Vos before that date and may only leave a decaorn afterwards.” 

“Yes. I was informed about the Swarming, but as my research in the Vosian Archives does not clash with it in any way” - or so Orion hoped – “I was given permission to stay in Vos then and I intend to arrive before the event, staying well after the restrictions should end.”

The shuttle lifted a sceptical brow plate, but nodded. 

“In that case we may discuss the details.”

A decaorn later Orion walked excitedly across Iacon’s main terminal, wading among the throngs of people going on their ways. He paid no attention to the main screen, as his flight was certainly not on it – the private flights were so rare in the city that nomech thought of marking them among the regular nonsentient shuttles to and fro other cities, moons or planets. Their gates were out on the very edge of the terminal building too, Orion realized when he walked briskly for several breems before even getting closer to the area which glyphs he was given and the crowds thinned out to a mere servoful of mecha, most of them a higher class than himself. 

Skyfire was awaiting him at the gate assigned to them, accompanied by another flier, much smaller than the huge shuttle… a Seeker, Orion realized from the shape and he immediately started fretting. Was there a problem at the last klik? Would he not be allowed to Vos during this mysterious Swarming of which even the Great Archives knew abysmally little? He spent a whole previous orn going over every mention of that combination of glyphs, but what he found was either unreliable hearsay, a mere mention without explanations, or totally ridiculous and unfounded speculations. It seemed that the more he read, the less he knew of this mysterious Seeker custom – and of course the more his curiosity was awakened about it.

“Greetings, Mr Skyfire. Sir…?”

He nodded politely to the shuttle and glanced a little worried at the Seeker standing beside him. He was only small compared to the shuttle, standing still a helm and a half taller than Orion. The red optics flashed at him with a disdain Orion came to expect from all Seekers when talking to a grounder and his slender wings flared high and wide. They were nice wings too, Orion noted, the colour a brilliant, silvery white, sparkling with expensive wax, the red immaculate crimson, and the azure blue adorning his limbs exactly the shade of Iacon’s clear skies… Orion caught himself staring, glanced quickly away and blushed slightly.

“Starscream. _Lord_ Starscream to you.”

The voice was scratchy and sharp, though from disdain or naturally, Orion couldn’t say. But the title drew his attention immediately. As a master archivist Orion was fairly highly classed in the society and occasionally met with Lords – but never before a Seeker one, he realized. He bowed deeply and some of the scowl left the dark faceplates, though he didn’t seem to like Orion’s presence more than at first.

“Is there a problem with my travel, Lord Starscream?”

The Seeker glanced at him like he didn’t expect a question – not quite a surprise, but unexpected. But the shuttle answered before he could.

“No problem, Orion Pax. Starscream is accompanying me as he is returning to Vos as well and we will fly together. It is unconnected to your presence here.”

Orion breathed out a vent of relief. Starscream scowled and looked annoyed. His wings quivered for a klik, fast and tense before they he stopped them with an effort. 

“Ohh… I see. I apologize, Lord Starscream, for assuming…”

“Oh, for Primus’s sake, let go! I want to be on my way, not conversing with two-bit groundpounders!”

“Starscream…” – the shuttle sighed – “be nice. Or, well, try to.”

“Why should I?”

The shuttle sighed again and Orion shifted from one pede to another uncomfortably. Not that he had never met rude nobles, but… it never got any better to be called names or dismissed as though he wasn’t there. 

“Shall we get going now? I want to get home this orn if I can and you must land before the orn is out.”

Skyfire looked at his companion wryly but with visible fondness. Orion couldn’t even guess their relationship. The shuttle was clearly not a noblemech, but he seemed to have liberties with the Seeker.

“Starscream… it took your Sire’s direct threat to return you to Vos. Don’t act like you’re… umm, eager to go home.”

“Well, I am now!”

Skyfire’s lips fought an inner battle with a smile and lost. Even the Seeker’s scowling countenance softened for a klik… and in that klik he looked… beautiful? Orion deleted the thought as soon as he identified it. It helped that the smile disappeared as fast as paint-smear in an acid rain and Starscream turned on one thruster-heel and disappeared imperiously through the gate. 

“Sorry about him.” Skyfire said as he motioned Orion through the same gate and once outside, transformed and opened his bay door. “He is not in a good mood, rare as that is with him, and it chafes him to be forced to comply with the airport’s rules.”

Orion boarded him and found his place, strapping in securely. He was no fan of flying and dearly hoped that the shuttle was not as adventurous a flier as his Seeker… friend.

“It’s okay.” He answered while Skyfire taxied after Starscream to their designated runway. “I found that most Seekers are so. And he’s a noble as well. I suppose… I should get used to it while in Vos. Are you friends?”

“I think so, yes. We study together in the Academy.”

Orion was more than a little surprised at that. A noblemech, and a Seeker at that, in Iacon Academy? But he kept it to himself out of politeness. After all, a transport class shuttle was strange enough there as well. He glanced out of the window and saw the sleek, elegant form of the Seeker rising much faster by them, his bright colours blinding in the sunlight. 

“What are you studying?”

“Xenobiology and exploration. We hope to go together on extragalactic expeditions.”

“Ohh..” That explained the shuttle. Some of them, who tested out to be suited for it got upped to expedition class. 

“But Starscream studies nearly every subject he gets a fancy for. Chemistry, physics, engineering, as well as xenopolitics, xenobiology…”

“That’s… extraordinary.” To put it mildly, Orion thought. For such a career it wasn’t enough to be a noble, one would have to be exceptionally intelligent too.

“He’s a genius. That’s why he doesn’t like to live in Vos. Vosian Academy only teaches military subjects. Starscream acquired his degrees there by the age the rest of them started their studies.”

Orion glanced out at the window again, seeing the colourful Seeker in an entirely different light. He was doing tricks now, flashing up and down, around the shuttle – Skyfire didn’t even twitch, apparently more than used to his partner’s antics, for which the archivist was eternally grateful – flying upside down and corkscrewing up unexpectedly. It was an amazing display of skill, even he, a born grounder from a grounder city could see. 

“And he can fly amazingly too.”

“Oh yes. He’s said to be the fastest Seeker in existence.”

“Well, some people have it all…” – Orion smiled to take away the edge of his joke – “looks, processor and skills, right?”

Skyfire snickered through his speakers, apparently perceiving that Orion meant it good-naturedly, not maliciously.

“Well, if you ask him – which I don’t suggest, he is extremely conceited already – he’d totally agree. He’s a prodigy. Not the easiest to get along with, though and not just because his youth.”

“But he seems to like you.”

Orion felt the shuttle’s optics on him even though it was impossible while in altmode.

“I have had ample opportunities to learn his quirks. But let’s talk about yourself. It is strange enough to see a grounder bound to Vos, least at this time of the Vorn.”

“I have a research project only the Vosian Archives seems to have material for. The early reign of the Winglords and the Quintesson Puzzle.”

“And you got a research permit? You must be very persuasive. Most are simply turned away.”

Orion hummed and frowned a bit. He knew it was difficult to gain a permit to Vos, but not unheard of and he managed to get it without any special efforts.

“Actually, it was harder to get one to Kaon. The Academy was most unwilling to fund the bribes they seem to operate on.”

Skyfire laughed, an easy sound through his speakers.

“Oh yes. I seem to remember that the few times Starscream wished to go there. For the first time I didn’t understand why a completely empty spaceport had no landing strip for us and why the official in charge of allocating them sent me his personal bank transfer code.”

Orion joined him in mirth. Kaonites expected bribes for virtually every bit of life. He had the same experience as the shuttle and shared his story… which led to another and more on their travels. With such a safe subject, the trip went quickly and Orion almost enjoyed the flight too.

Arriving to Vos was a jarring experience afterwards. After disembarking from Skyfire at the tiniest airport he’s ever seen, he was detained in Immigration for joors, grilled mercilessly about his travel permit, research subject, lodgings, sponsors and anything the Seeker in charge could think of; and only allowed to go on his way when it was dark outside and Orion could barely stand or answer with complete sentences any more. He was dead tired, hungry and his processor swam from the merciless, endless questioning. He was fairly sure the Seeker official only stopped when he did because it was well past his working joors too.

“Go now, grounder.” The dismissal was curt and Orion could barely believe it. 

“Thank you.” At least he could still be polite, though it wasn’t like the Seeker even noticed. 

He dragged himself out of the unfriendly office and stared at the outside from the doorway. Huge towers rose over his helm, into the clouds, into the darkness, blocking all light from above; tall, well-built and majestic… a complete opposite to the pockmarked, debris strewn, decrepit little road that stretched in front of his pedes. It was unlit, empty and looking ominous, but Orion was too tired to even be afraid. So he shifted to his wheels and started driving on it, swerving frequently to avoid the worst holes and occasional fallen structures. Road markings he saw none, so he was left completely to his GPS to find his hotel, which, when he reached it was tucked into the lower leg of a great tower, huddling there like a burrow and looking just as unwelcoming as the road. Orion started to understand what it meant to be a grounder in Vos.

Great.


	2. Chapter 2

“TC, TC, TEECEE, come in!”

“Skywarp! What did I tell you about addressing another?”

“Umm… not to call Thundercracker TC?”

“Among others…” – Skywave sighed – “you are both nearing full adulthood and you should behave your age and not call mecha by their nickname. Take Thundercracker’s example – he should be your role model.”

He noted the blue wings stiffen at the praise before vibrating happily and waved the youth inside from the landing pad. Skywarp jumped up and down until he felt the exasperated glance shift towards him and with no little difficulty he curbed his enthusiasm. Skywave sighed again, which was something he did entirely too much around his only youngling. He couldn’t remember being so scatter-processored in his own youth. Enthusiasm, he could understand. Emotions also – in this, Thundercracker was an exception being so serious. But sometimes it seemed that Skywarp simply didn’t want to grow up and be responsible. Or… couldn’t.

“Welcome Thundercracker.”

“A good orn to you, Sir. May I stay the orn till sunset? Academy is cancelled for the decaorn.” Blue wings buzzed a respectful note and Skywave’s own answered with a short hum to acknowledge it.

“Of course. Skywarp, as you can see is most eager to share you some news he hasn’t even told me yet.”

Skywave liked the calm, serious Seekerling and didn’t hold his low status against him like many did. Thundercracker made the best of his meagre circumstances, claiming the free state education and excelled in academic subjects as well as in flying. In fact… without his help and coaching Skywarp would have fared much worse in the Academy and that would have been a great dishonour to the clan. Skywave was aware of the debt that placed on their clan and was determined to pay it back by helping the youngling who would be more likely than not either trining or mating with Skywarp in the future, if their friendship was any indication.

“TC, do you know what I heard?” – Skywarp couldn’t make the polite behaviour last any longer and his wings buzzed his news well before his words could – “Prince Starscream is coming back to Vos for the Swarming!”

Even Skywave’s wings shot up in surprise – this piece of news was something he hasn’t heard yet. Apparently, somemech in Skywarp’s group of friends was privy to more than he, the Guard Captain of the city. Thundercracker’s wings hummed with surprise and he stared at his friend with amazement.

“Where did you hear this?”

“You know the Storms, Sire, right? They talked nothing but this the whole orn. Dunno where Icestorm got it, but they swear it’s true!”

“One of Icestorm’s uncles work in the Foreign Office and handles migration.” Skywave mused. It made sense to know such things and that clan gossiped like there was no tomorrow. “That means… that means he will be in the contention for sure now. He’s in the right age and definitely eligible.”

Thundercracker hang on their words, optics wide with excitement he rarely showed. As a low born Seekerling with no connections he knew far less about the nobility than the Sky clan. Skywarp was autowarping around again, flashing in and out of existence with unbridled excitement – but he still managed to both talk and buzz loudly with his wings.

“They say he’s the best flier ever born! Nomech could beat him while he was in Vos!”

“And he is extremely intelligent too.” Skywave turned toward the blue Seekerling, explaining. “That’s why he’s in Iacon now. He studies in their Academy and if news are to be believed he’s acing among the grounders as well.”

Thundercracker’s optics were wide as saucers as he listened and secretly envied the ease with which they talked about a royal prince. Of course there were many other princes, he knew, but most were just like… just like any other nobles. But some of them were different. Starscream certainly. Solarwind too. Him, he saw many times, in the outer rings too. Seekers spoke of him that he was against nobility and classes. Maybe it was true. But he was more concerned about the Sky clan now than the Solars.

“And what about… do your clan intend to stay?”

“We definitely do, yes.” Skywave nodded and smiled at his creation. “We are a young clan and our future is in Vos. What about your clan?”

Thundercracker’s wings quivered with forced nonchalance. His clan leader hinted that he saw more opportunities for them in a new world than the old one. As he worked in construction, Thundercracker could certainly understand it. Logically, that is. A new Vos would need skilled builders for a long time yet. He buzzed an unhappy note.

“I don’t know, really, I’m not sure yet. But I will stay. I have two terms in the Academy still.”

“You would have opportunities for advance if you choose to go, you know?”

“I thought of it… but something tells me to stay.” The blue youngling glanced hopefully at Skywarp, who grinned back at him.

“I want you to stay, TC! You are my best friend!”

Skywave smothered a smile. Yes, these two were a trine in the makings. Skywarp could theoretically do better than a low-caste Seekerling, but their easy friendship was not something he could ignore and he could hep Thundercracker to advance. The elder Seeker made a decision.

“If your clan decides to go, Thundercracker, you may have a place in our Eyrie.”

Thundercracker gasped a little and looked overwhelmed. Dark blue wings shot up and buzzed enthusiastic gratitude.

“Thank you, Sir!”

“You can have the room beside mine!”

“Well. Let’s wait with allocating adjoining rooms for now, Skywarp.”

Thundercracker blushed and his wings slowly sank behind him. Skywarp’s on the other servo, shook with snickering laughter. Skywave sighed again. His youngling was growing up in all the inappropriate areas. He had already caught the purple youngling self-servicing several times and if he tried the real deal with somemech, Skywave was grounding him for the next vorn!

“And who else the Storms are talking about?” Changing the subject seemed to be the safest course. “Skywarp? Any other news?”

“Yes, Sire! About Sunstorm mostly. He has all it takes too, but he is just not interested. He’d rather turn a priest than become Winglord.”

Skywave nodded. The brightly coloured, serious little Seeker – coincidentally almost the mirror image of his great-grandsire, the Winglord, which led to many whispers of him being a favourite of the old mech - was known to lean towards religion and having very little ambition. But Skywarp continued his enthusiastic report.

“Though his whole clan tries to convince him to enter the challenge. They are… very ambitious and I think Sunglider will convince him to fly.”

It was what Skywave thought as well and Thundercracker was nodding too. Few Seekers ignored their clanleader’s wishes the way Prince Starscream did, they mostly abided by what their elders decided for the good of the clan. And to enter the challenge and become the next Winglord of Vos? That was high stakes all right, not something to miss.

“Steelsong will also contend” Skywarp continued prattling excitedly, underscored by his wing buzzing the same way. “He has little chance to win a physical contest, but he will take it. Solarwind also, he is the middle classes’ favourite. Lightning Bolt won’t, mechs say he’s too old and may go with the Swarm. Ramjet wants to, if the Judges let him, but his rank is not enough.”

“Sunbright has enough descendants so the farther relatives won’t be getting a pass.” Skywave added for Thundercracker’s benefit and his wings buzzed with barely hidden mirth “Our Winglord had been prolific enough to have plenty of contestants from his line in the right age now.”

“None of them has a lot of chance if Prince Starscream enters the challenge.” Thundercracker said with a wishful glance. Skywarp poked his friend in the side with a funny grimace. Skywave’s wings hummed a short note. Was that a little… crush he saw? In both of them? The Prince was beautiful and having many good qualities, true, and many of his age group had the hots for him but… it wasn’t good for their future career to cast their sights that high. He decided to keep a wing sensor on that.

“What about Thunderbolt? He was rumoured to be eligible too.”

“He crashed a few orns ago. Nothing serious, but the mistake he made was amateur and _groundpounders_ had to collect him from the crevasse he fell into. All the tabloids chewed him out like Pit.”

Skywave lifted a stiff wing. Sure, he didn’t read those newscasts, but he hadn’t heard about that little scandal either. Was he losing his touch that Skywarp had to deliver all the news to the Eyrie?

“Well, none of them will declare while the Winglord is still in power, that’s for sure.”

“But Swarming is in three decaorns?” Thundercracker was perplexed.

“Exactly. They will all lay low while Sunbright prepares the Swarm. We’re not the barbarians of old, when the still-reigning Winglord culled the prospectives himself before the Swarming, but they won’t be taking chances if they’re smart.”

“Nomech could call Ramjet smart.” Skywarp’s wing gave a cackling buzz. “Or Steelsong.”

“Steelsong is not stupid.” Skywave frowned. He didn’t even try to protest the sentiment about Ramjet, despite the connection between their clans. Everyone knew Ramjet.

“No but his helm is in the clouds more often than his wings!”

“He is an artist. He can be serious when he has to.”

At that point the rest of Skywave’s trine more or less fell in through the window, laughing uproariously about some poor little grounder at the airport that they mercilessly grilled until the mech could hardly stand and answer in full sentences, and Skywave frowned. A grounder with an actual, valid pass at a time like this? He must check on it.

-o-o-o-

The Winglord’s Eyrie was abuzz with activity. Set to the center of Vos, nestling on top of the tallest tower, lit at all times with multicoloured lights sweeping from all sides, members of his large family flying to and from on all manners on errands and the Palace Guards doing their patrol laps around it nearly constantly, it was never silent, never dark and almost never calm. Still, there was something more in the air around it, ever since Winglord Sunbright had appeared on all comms around Vos a decaorn ago, surprising every Seeker with his rare appearance and what he had announced. With wings humming gently to underline his words, he managed to shock his city that has, in the last few centuries, perhaps came to enjoy peace and prosperity a bit too much, taking the Golden Age for granted and changes unnecessary…

_“My fellow Seekers. It has been my honour leading Vos and Seekerkin into this age and prosperity. But myself and the city itself start to feel the weight of what we have achieved. We all see how full Vos has became with no war for centuries and while we all rejoice the number of Seekerlings among us, I would be remiss in my duties not to address the situation properly and timely.”_

_Bright, golden wings froze for a nanoklik and then gave a sharp, audibly loud buzzing crackle that had Seekers all around Vos stand up and straighten, optics firmly locked on their screens…_

_“I declare the Swarming to take place on the fifth orn of the Moon. I invite all who would come with me and my Clan to be prepared by that time – and I wish all the best for those who choose to stay and renew Vos.”_

_Sunbright’s golden wings sagged on the screen, the first sign of age he ever allowed to show publicily._

_“I have notified those of you whom I have chosen to oversee the Judging and the changeover. I implore you to make your decisions wisely and in Vos’s best interests. For the rest of you, all of Seekerkin: I say thank you and may the winds carry you all safely.”_

In the center of the Eyrie, Sunbright hovered beside the large screen with the plans for the colony listed on it along with his decision. All has been debated for far longer than he has declared the Swarming, in fact longer than he had lived. Though Vos has not seen a Swarming for several eons, the preparations for one has always been in place, in a tiny office manned by a single duty trine… one that got enlarged by several magnitudes in the last few orns, encompassing all manner of operations now. Choosing their new Colony, deciding what to take with them, what to duplicate, what to leave behind; preparing all the necessities for transporting and managing such a huge group of Seekers, bearing olds, youths, sparklings even and elderly that could barely take the wing any more; and sending the builders ahead so when the Swarm rose there would be the framework for a new Vos already in place on a distant world.

And, naturally, all the necessary preparations to hide all happening from prying grounder optics. It had to have been easier all those eons ago, Sunbright mused, when grounders never lifted their optics from down where they belonged and Vos itself was barely a legend to them. Now though… Grounder cities were all around, growing every vorn, watching the Seeker city with envy, Cybertron was ringed with satellites, the Moons riddled with mines and settlements and the grounders also had several colonies in multiple systems, with healthy amount of traffic among them and the homeworld. To hide the Swarm in these orns, as tradition dictated, would be next to impossible. Still, they would try. Vos was on a lockdown and would remain so throughout the contest and they would hide the leaving Swarm the best they could.

“Axon, call the Judges again, please. I want to know whether they made a decision or not yet. It’s getting late.”

The Judges of the Change were, by tradition, drawn from all strata of society. It was wise and just – but it made them uneasy to work together. They took a blasted long time to make decisions, time they didn’t have. Once decided, the Swarming could not be delayed, it buzzed loudly in his coding, it was felt by the prospectives as well, making them less and less able to hide… and making Sunbright less and less able to ignore their presence. The Winglord moved towards a window, looking down at Vos, at the towers, the millions of wings flashing and glinting in the sunlight as they flew, moved and danced in the air all around….

… and he felt acutely those bright, loud sparks, one of them who could be his successor. They stood out like bright spots of flame in his spark, like loudly buzzing glyphs in a conversation, the dozen or so Seekers, who would fight it out for the title once the Swarm had left. He had known most of them, if not all, even though he had never consciously sought them out. But they were there, he knew, they all rose to positions of power or fame. Even Starscream, whose spark-flame has just entered to Vos, after his long absence. Sunbright had not been sure whether his great-grandsparkling, one of the youngest, would come home for this. The only thing that was stronger in that Seeker than his ambition was his unquenchable thirst for knowledge. Or maybe it wasn’t, the Winglord mused, if he came back to enter the contest. For he was the strongest flame among them, blazing brightly for their flickers, shrieking loudly among their whisper-light, polite buzzing…

Vos would never be bored – or boring - should he win. Golden Age or not, Starscream would lead Vos into challenges and trials, would turn established society and time-honoured traditions upside down. All new Winglords would, to some measure, the golden-bronze Seeker acknowledged to himself, it was part and parcel of the Swarming, to renew and reform the city and Seekerkin. But not to the same degree, not the same way. Take Sunstorm for one – he’s do many of the same things Starscream would, not because he himself was a rebel - but for Starscream. And that would surprise the Pit out of many Clans who took them for enemies. Sunbright almost wished he was there to see it. But still, Sunstorm would do it in the system, without the fanfare, and he would make the clans approve, whereas Starscream would enjoy doing it in spite of them. 

“Winglord? The Judges are on the line.”

“Put them on.”

“Winglord Sunbright.” The Speaker of the Judges inclined his helm and green-tinted wings fell several millimetres before buzzing up again. “We have finalized the selection.”

“I am glad to hear so.”

“I’m transmitting our document to your office now. The encryption key is going to Lord Swift Wings as agreed. The Contestants are being notified as we speak.”

He wouldn’t see the finalized list of the contenders until they reached the new colony world and his wing second, organizing even now the new colony’s framework, gave them the key for the document. By that time the challenge might be over and they would get to know the new Winglord’s designation as well. Or maybe not. History told Sunbright that Swarm contests sometimes lasted for groons if the contestants made a cutthroat political game out of it with alliances and defections, betrayals and all that… though he didn’t think this bunch would go that way. Too many of them were young and proud of their physical prowess above of societal qualities. 

Sunbright didn’t feel angst that some of his descendants were going to deactivate others also of his line. It was the way Swarming worked and he would never see many of them again anyway. Although he didn’t come to power after a swarm, he understood how it went. He felt his own coding that urged him even now to seek out those young... contenders and prove them that he wasn’t old, he wasn’t weak, he was still able to lead Seekerkin… and damn, if some of them didn’t make it easy to accept that he must not do so. He was so not the Winglord of old, personally culling his offspring for weaknesses, to ensure a strong field when he left. That was barbaric. The Judges were a much more civilized solution. They would not let Ramjet take wing when the contestants rose high above this very Eyrie in the wake of the Swarm. They had better not!

But he often felt the strong urge to throttle Starscream. Not because the young Seeker was unsuitable, no. Quite the opposite, he was going to recharge soundly if he knew that Vos was going to be led by the tricoloured Seeker into the next millennia. He would face the end of the Golden Age with strength and intelligence and lead Vos through Pit and high winds by sheer stubbornness. But damn… did he have to be so annoying, so obnoxious about it? Like… did he have to bring that shuttle friend of his to Vos at a time like this? No winged Cybertronian was turned away like grounders, at most discouraged to visit now, but still!

“Axon, do we have an estimate about how many intends to swarm?”

He would bury himself into organizing and planning the Swarm. Anything so he wouldn’t jump out of the window like an irresponsible youngling and seek out Starscream to shake him until his wings fell off and maybe some sense formed in that stubborn processor…

“Three major and forty-nine minor clans indicated their intention. Seventeen is in debate still and may split. Unknown are the ones that declare suddenly before Swarming, but that is usually a small fraction. Altogether we expect numbers from twenty thousand to at most a hundred thousand or so.”

“That’s a lot.”

It would certainly be a Swarm to behold, close to what one could see at the Storm Rites, when every Seeker in Vos who could take to wing flew. Of course Storm Rites generally occurred after wars, when Vos was at its smallest in numbers, while right now the city was larger than at any time in its written history. Over a million registered, full Seekers lived in Vos’s increasingly crowded towers and almost as many Aerials and various flight-capables, along with many halfbreeds shared the outer rings and middle levels with them. Sunbright didn’t even think of counting the few true grounders living in the undercity, among the footprints of the great towers. They weren’t Seekers and weren’t Vosians either. He wasn’t their Winglord.

"But we will manage."


End file.
